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+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Survival Tactics, by Al Sevcik
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Survival Tactics, by Al Sevcik
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Survival Tactics
+
+Author: Al Sevcik
+
+Illustrator: Irving Novick
+
+Release Date: March 30, 2008 [EBook #24966]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SURVIVAL TACTICS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="bk1"><h1><big>SURVIVAL<br />
+TACTICS</big></h1>
+
+<h2>By AL SEVCIK</h2>
+
+<p><small>ILLUSTRATOR NOVICK</small></p></div>
+
+<div class="bk2"><p><i>The robots were built to serve
+Man; to do his work, see to his
+comforts, make smooth his way.
+Then the robots figured out an
+additional service&mdash;putting Man
+out of his misery.</i>
+</p></div>
+
+<hr class="hrc" />
+
+<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">There</span> was a sudden crash
+that hung sharply in the air,
+as if a tree had been hit by
+lightning some distance away.
+Then another. Alan stopped,
+puzzled. Two more blasts, quickly
+together, and the sound of a
+scream faintly.</p>
+
+<p>Frowning, worrying about the
+sounds, Alan momentarily forgot
+to watch his step until his foot
+suddenly plunged into an ant
+hill, throwing him to the jungle
+floor. "Damn!" He cursed again,
+for the tenth time, and stood
+uncertainly in the dimness.
+From tall, moss-shrouded trees,
+wrist-thick vines hung quietly,
+scraping the spongy ground like
+the tentacles of some monstrous
+tree-bound octopus. Fitful little
+plants grew straggly in the
+shadows of the mossy trunks,
+forming a dense underbrush that
+made walking difficult. At midday
+some few of the blue sun's
+rays filtered through to the
+jungle floor, but now, late afternoon
+on the planet, the shadows
+were long and gloomy.</p>
+
+<p>Alan peered around him at the
+vine-draped shadows, listening
+to the soft rustlings and faint
+twig-snappings of life in the
+jungle. Two short, popping
+sounds echoed across the stillness,
+drowned out almost immediately
+and silenced by an
+explosive crash. Alan started,
+"Blaster fighting! But it can't
+be!"</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly anxious, he slashed
+a hurried X in one of the trees
+to mark his position then turned
+to follow a line of similar marks
+back through the jungle. He
+tried to run, but vines blocked
+his way and woody shrubs
+caught at his legs, tripping him
+and holding him back. Then,
+through the trees he saw the
+clearing of the camp site, the
+temporary home for the scout
+ship and the eleven men who,
+with Alan, were the only humans
+on the jungle planet, Waiamea.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>Stepping through the low
+shrubbery at the edge of the
+site, he looked across the open
+area to the two temporary structures,
+the camp headquarters
+where the power supplies and
+the computer were; and the
+sleeping quarters. Beyond, nose
+high, stood the silver scout ship
+that had brought the advance
+exploratory party of scientists
+and technicians to Waiamea
+three days before. Except for a
+few of the killer robots rolling
+slowly around the camp site on
+their quiet treads, there was no
+one about.</p>
+
+<p>"So, they've finally got those
+things working." Alan smiled
+slightly. "Guess that means I
+owe Pete a bourbon-and-soda
+for sure. Anybody who can
+build a robot that hunts by homing
+in on animals' mind impulses ..."
+He stepped forward
+just as a roar of blue flame dissolved
+the branches of a tree,
+barely above his head.</p>
+
+<p>Without pausing to think,
+Alan leaped back, and fell
+sprawling over a bush just as
+one of the robots rolled silently
+up from the right, lowering its
+blaster barrel to aim directly at
+his head. Alan froze. "My God,
+Pete built those things wrong!"</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a screeching whirlwind
+of claws and teeth hurled
+itself from the smoldering
+branches and crashed against the
+robot, clawing insanely at the
+antenna and blaster barrel.
+With an awkward jerk the robot
+swung around and fired its blaster,
+completely dissolving the
+lower half of the cat creature
+which had clung across the barrel.
+But the back pressure of the
+cat's body overloaded the discharge
+circuits. The robot started
+to shake, then clicked sharply
+as an overload relay snapped
+and shorted the blaster cells.
+The killer turned and rolled back
+towards the camp, leaving Alan
+alone.</p>
+
+<p>Shakily, Alan crawled a few
+feet back into the undergrowth
+where he could lie and watch the
+camp, but not himself be seen.
+Though visibility didn't make
+any difference to the robots, he
+felt safer, somehow, hidden. He
+knew now what the shooting
+sounds had been and why there
+hadn't been anyone around the
+camp site. A charred blob lying
+in the grass of the clearing confirmed
+his hypothesis. His stomach
+felt sick.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose," he muttered to
+himself, "that Pete assembled
+these robots in a batch and then
+activated them all at once, probably
+never living to realize that
+they're tuned to pick up human
+brain waves, too. Damn!
+Damn!" His eyes blurred and
+he slammed his fist into the soft
+earth.</p>
+
+<p>When he raised his eyes again
+the jungle was perceptibly darker.
+Stealthy rustlings in the
+shadows grew louder with the
+setting sun. Branches snapped
+unaccountably in the trees overhead
+and every now and then
+leaves or a twig fell softly to the
+ground, close to where he lay.
+Reaching into his jacket, Alan
+fingered his pocket blaster. He
+pulled it out and held it in his
+right hand. "This pop gun
+wouldn't even singe a robot, but
+it just might stop one of those
+pumas."</p>
+
+<div class="figright">
+<img src="images/001.png" width="337" height="500" alt="" title="" />
+<b>They said the blast with your name on it would find
+you anywhere. This looked like Alan's blast.</b></div>
+
+<p>Slowly Alan looked around,
+sizing up his situation. Behind
+him the dark jungle rustled forbiddingly.
+He shuddered. "Not a
+very healthy spot to spend the
+night. On the other hand, I certainly
+can't get to the camp with
+a pack of mind-activated mechanical
+killers running around.
+If I can just hold out until morning,
+when the big ship arrives ...
+The big ship! Good
+Lord, Peggy!" He turned white;
+oily sweat punctuated his forehead.
+Peggy, arriving tomorrow
+with the other colonists, the
+wives and kids! The metal killers,
+tuned to blast any living
+flesh, would murder them the
+instant they stepped from the
+ship!</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>A pretty girl, Peggy, the girl
+he'd married just three weeks
+ago. He still couldn't believe it.
+It was crazy, he supposed, to
+marry a girl and then take off
+for an unknown planet, with her
+to follow, to try to create a home
+in a jungle clearing. Crazy maybe,
+but Peggy and her green eyes
+that changed color with the
+light, with her soft brown hair,
+and her happy smile, had ended
+thirty years of loneliness and
+had, at last, given him a reason
+for living. "Not to be killed!"
+Alan unclenched his fists and
+wiped his palms, bloody where
+his fingernails had dug into the
+flesh.</p>
+
+<p>There was a slight creak above
+him like the protesting of a
+branch too heavily laden. Blaster
+ready, Alan rolled over onto his
+back. In the movement, his elbow
+struck the top of a small
+earthy mound and he was instantly
+engulfed in a swarm of
+locust-like insects that beat disgustingly
+against his eyes and
+mouth. "Fagh!" Waving his
+arms before his face he jumped
+up and backwards, away from
+the bugs. As he did so, a dark
+shapeless thing plopped from
+the trees onto the spot where he
+had been lying stretched out.
+Then, like an ambient fungus,
+it slithered off into the jungle
+undergrowth.</p>
+
+<p>For a split second the jungle
+stood frozen in a brilliant blue
+flash, followed by the sharp report
+of a blaster. Then another.
+Alan whirled, startled. The
+planet's double moon had risen
+and he could see a robot rolling
+slowly across the clearing in his
+general direction, blasting indiscriminately
+at whatever mind
+impulses came within its pickup
+range, birds, insects, anything.
+Six or seven others also left the
+camp headquarters area and
+headed for the jungle, each to a
+slightly different spot.</p>
+
+<p>Apparently the robot hadn't
+sensed him yet, but Alan didn't
+know what the effective range
+of its pickup devices was. He
+began to slide back into the
+jungle. Minutes later, looking
+back he saw that the machine,
+though several hundred yards
+away, had altered its course and
+was now headed directly for
+him.</p>
+
+<p>His stomach tightened. Panic.
+The dank, musty smell of the
+jungle seemed for an instant to
+thicken and choke in his throat.
+Then he thought of the big ship
+landing in the morning, settling
+down slowly after a lonely two-week
+voyage. He thought of a
+brown-haired girl crowding with
+the others to the gangway, eager
+to embrace the new planet, and
+the next instant a charred nothing,
+unrecognizable, the victim
+of a design error or a misplaced
+wire in a machine. "I have to
+try," he said aloud. "I have to
+try." He moved into the blackness.</p>
+
+<p>Powerful as a small tank, the
+killer robot was equipped to
+crush, slash, and burn its way
+through undergrowth. Nevertheless,
+it was slowed by the
+larger trees and the thick, clinging
+vines, and Alan found that
+he could manage to keep ahead
+of it, barely out of blaster range.
+Only, the robot didn't get tired.
+Alan did.</p>
+
+<p>The twin moons cast pale, deceptive
+shadows that wavered
+and danced across the jungle
+floor, hiding debris that tripped
+him and often sent him sprawling
+into the dark. Sharp-edged
+growths tore at his face and
+clothes, and insects attracted by
+the blood matted against his
+pants and shirt. Behind, the robot
+crashed imperturbably after
+him, lighting the night with fitful
+blaster flashes as some
+winged or legged life came within
+its range.</p>
+
+<p>There was movement also, in
+the darkness beside him, scrapings
+and rustlings and an occasional
+low, throaty sound like an
+angry cat. Alan's fingers tensed
+on his pocket blaster. Swift
+shadowy forms moved quickly in
+the shrubs and the growling became
+suddenly louder. He fired
+twice, blindly, into the undergrowth.
+Sharp screams punctuated
+the electric blue discharge as
+a pack of small feline creatures
+leaped snarling and clawing
+back into the night.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>Mentally, Alan tried to figure
+the charge remaining in his blaster.
+There wouldn't be much.
+"Enough for a few more shots,
+maybe. Why the devil didn't I
+load in fresh cells this morning!"</p>
+
+<p>The robot crashed on, louder
+now, gaining on the tired human.
+Legs aching and bruised,
+stinging from insect bites, Alan
+tried to force himself to run
+holding his hands in front of
+him like a child in the dark. His
+foot tripped on a barely visible
+insect hill and a winged swarm
+exploded around him. Startled,
+Alan jerked sideways, crashing
+his head against a tree. He
+clutched at the bark for a second,
+dazed, then his knees
+buckled. His blaster fell into the
+shadows.</p>
+
+<p>The robot crashed loudly behind
+him now. Without stopping
+to think, Alan fumbled along the
+ground after his gun, straining
+his eyes in the darkness. He
+found it just a couple of feet to
+one side, against the base of a
+small bush. Just as his fingers
+closed upon the barrel his other
+hand slipped into something
+sticky that splashed over his
+forearm. He screamed in pain
+and leaped back, trying frantically
+to wipe the clinging,
+burning blackness off his arm.
+Patches of black scraped off onto
+branches and vines, but the rest
+spread slowly over his arm as
+agonizing as hot acid, or as flesh
+being ripped away layer by
+layer.</p>
+
+<p>Almost blinded by pain, whimpering,
+Alan stumbled forward.
+Sharp muscle spasms shot from
+his shoulder across his back and
+chest. Tears streamed across his
+cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>A blue arc slashed at the trees
+a mere hundred yards behind.
+He screamed at the blast. "Damn
+you, Pete! Damn your robots!
+Damn, damn ... Oh, Peggy!"
+He stepped into emptiness.</p>
+
+<p>Coolness. Wet. Slowly, washed
+by the water, the pain began to
+fall away. He wanted to lie there
+forever in the dark, cool, wetness.
+For ever, and ever, and ...
+The air thundered.</p>
+
+<p>In the dim light he could see
+the banks of the stream, higher
+than a man, muddy and loose.
+Growing right to the edge of the
+banks, the jungle reached out
+with hairy, disjointed arms as
+if to snag even the dirty little
+stream that passed so timidly
+through its domain.</p>
+
+<p>Alan, lying in the mud of the
+stream bed, felt the earth shake
+as the heavy little robot rolled
+slowly and inexorably towards
+him. "The Lord High Executioner,"
+he thought, "in battle
+dress." He tried to stand but his
+legs were almost too weak and
+his arm felt numb. "I'll drown
+him," he said aloud. "I'll drown
+the Lord High Executioner." He
+laughed. Then his mind cleared.
+He remembered where he was.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>Alan trembled. For the first
+time in his life he understood
+what it was to live, because for
+the first time he realized that he
+would sometime die. In other
+times and circumstances he
+might put it off for a while, for
+months or years, but eventually,
+as now, he would have to watch,
+still and helpless, while death
+came creeping. Then, at thirty,
+Alan became a man.</p>
+
+<p>"Dammit, no law says I have
+to flame-out <i>now</i>!" He forced
+himself to rise, forced his legs
+to stand, struggling painfully in
+the shin-deep ooze. He worked
+his way to the bank and began to
+dig frenziedly, chest high, about
+two feet below the edge.</p>
+
+<p>His arm where the black thing
+had been was swollen and tender,
+but he forced his hands to dig,
+dig, dig, cursing and crying to
+hide the pain, and biting his
+lips, ignoring the salty taste of
+blood. The soft earth crumbled
+under his hands until he had a
+small cave about three feet deep
+in the bank. Beyond that the
+soil was held too tightly by the
+roots from above and he had to
+stop.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>The air crackled blue and a
+tree crashed heavily past Alan
+into the stream. Above him on
+the bank, silhouetting against
+the moons, the killer robot stopped
+and its blaster swivelled
+slowly down. Frantically, Alan
+hugged the bank as a shaft of
+pure electricity arced over him,
+sliced into the water, and exploded
+in a cloud of steam. The
+robot shook for a second, its
+blaster muzzle lifted erratically
+and for an instant it seemed almost
+out of control, then it
+quieted and the muzzle again
+pointed down.</p>
+
+<p>Pressing with all his might,
+Alan slid slowly along the bank
+inches at a time, away from the
+machine above. Its muzzle turned
+to follow him but the edge of
+the bank blocked its aim. Grinding
+forward a couple of feet,
+slightly overhanging the bank,
+the robot fired again. For a split
+second Alan seemed engulfed in
+flame; the heat of hell singed his
+head and back, and mud boiled
+in the bank by his arm.</p>
+
+<p>Again the robot trembled. It
+jerked forward a foot and its
+blaster swung slightly away. But
+only for a moment. Then the gun
+swung back again.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, as if sensing something
+wrong, its tracks slammed
+into reverse. It stood poised for
+a second, its treads spinning
+crazily as the earth collapsed underneath
+it, where Alan had
+dug, then it fell with a heavy
+splash into the mud, ten feet
+from where Alan stood.</p>
+
+<p>Without hesitation Alan
+threw himself across the blaster
+housing, frantically locking his
+arms around the barrel as the
+robot's treads churned furiously
+in the sticky mud, causing it to
+buck and plunge like a Brahma
+bull. The treads stopped and the
+blaster jerked upwards wrenching
+Alan's arms, then slammed
+down. Then the whole housing
+whirled around and around, tilting
+alternately up and down like
+a steel-skinned water monster
+trying to dislodge a tenacious
+crab, while Alan, arms and legs
+wrapped tightly around the blaster
+barrel and housing, pressed
+fiercely against the robot's metal
+skin.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly, trying to anticipate
+and shift his weight with the
+spinning plunges, Alan worked
+his hand down to his right hip.
+He fumbled for the sheath clipped
+to his belt, found it, and extracted
+a stubby hunting knife.
+Sweat and blood in his eyes,
+hardly able to move on the wildly
+swinging turret, he felt down
+the sides to the thin crack between
+the revolving housing and
+the stationary portion of the robot.
+With a quick prayer he
+jammed in the knife blade&mdash;and
+was whipped headlong into the
+mud as the turret literally snapped
+to a stop.</p>
+
+<p>The earth, jungle and moons
+spun in a pinwheeled blur,
+slowed, and settled to their proper
+places. Standing in the sticky,
+sweet-smelling ooze, Alan eyed
+the robot apprehensively. Half
+buried in mud, it stood quiet in
+the shadowy light except for an
+occasional, almost spasmodic
+jerk of its blaster barrel. For
+the first time that night Alan
+allowed himself a slight smile.
+"A blade in the old gear box,
+eh? How does that feel, boy?"</p>
+
+<p>He turned. "Well, I'd better
+get out of here before the knife
+slips or the monster cooks up
+some more tricks with whatever
+it's got for a brain." Digging
+little footholds in the soft bank,
+he climbed up and stood once
+again in the rustling jungle
+darkness.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder," he thought, "how
+Pete could cram enough brain
+into one of those things to make
+it hunt and track so perfectly."
+He tried to visualize the computing
+circuits needed for the
+operation of its tracking mechanism
+alone. "There just isn't
+room for the electronics. You'd
+need a computer as big as the
+one at camp headquarters."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>In the distance the sky blazed
+as a blaster roared in the jungle.
+Then Alan heard the approaching
+robot, crunching and snapping
+its way through the undergrowth
+like an onrushing forest
+fire. He froze. "Good Lord!
+They communicate with each
+other! The one I jammed must
+be calling others to help."</p>
+
+<p>He began to move along the
+bank, away from the crashing
+sounds. Suddenly he stopped, his
+eyes widened. "Of course! Radio!
+I'll bet anything they're
+automatically controlled by the
+camp computer. That's where
+their brain is!" He paused.
+"Then, if that were put out of
+commission ..." He jerked away
+from the bank and half ran, half
+pulled himself through the undergrowth
+towards the camp.</p>
+
+<p>Trees exploded to his left as
+another robot fired in his direction,
+too far away to be effective
+but churning towards him
+through the blackness.</p>
+
+<p>Alan changed direction slightly
+to follow a line between the
+two robots coming up from
+either side, behind him. His eyes
+were well accustomed to the dark
+now, and he managed to dodge
+most of the shadowy vines and
+branches before they could snag
+or trip him. Even so, he stumbled
+in the wiry underbrush and
+his legs were a mass of stinging
+slashes from ankle to thigh.</p>
+
+<p>The crashing rumble of the
+killer robots shook the night behind
+him, nearer sometimes,
+then falling slightly back, but
+following constantly, more
+unshakable than bloodhounds
+because a man can sometimes cover
+a scent, but no man can stop his
+thoughts. Intermittently, like
+photographers' strobes, blue
+flashes would light the jungle
+about him. Then, for seconds
+afterwards his eyes would see
+dancing streaks of yellow and
+sharp multi-colored pinwheels
+that alternately shrunk and expanded
+as if in a surrealist's
+nightmare. Alan would have to
+pause and squeeze his eyelids
+tight shut before he could see
+again, and the robots would
+move a little closer.</p>
+
+<p>To his right the trees silhouetted
+briefly against brilliance as
+a third robot slowly moved up
+in the distance. Without thinking,
+Alan turned slightly to the
+left, then froze in momentary
+panic. "I should be at the camp
+now. Damn, what direction am
+I going?" He tried to think
+back, to visualize the twists and
+turns he'd taken in the jungle.
+"All I need is to get lost."</p>
+
+<p>He pictured the camp computer
+with no one to stop it, automatically
+sending its robots in
+wider and wider forays, slowly
+wiping every trace of life from
+the planet. Technologically advanced
+machines doing the job
+for which they were built, completely,
+thoroughly, without feeling,
+and without human masters
+to separate sense from futility.
+Finally parts would wear out,
+circuits would short, and one by
+one the killers would crunch to
+a halt. A few birds would still
+fly then, but a unique animal
+life, rare in the universe, would
+exist no more. And the bones of
+children, eager girls, and their
+men would also lie, beside a
+rusty hulk, beneath the alien
+sun.</p>
+
+<p>"Peggy!"</p>
+
+<p>As if in answer, a tree beside
+him breathed fire, then exploded.
+In the brief flash of the
+blaster shot, Alan saw the steel
+glint of a robot only a hundred
+yards away, much nearer than
+he had thought. "Thank heaven
+for trees!" He stepped back, felt
+his foot catch in something,
+clutched futilely at some leaves
+and fell heavily.</p>
+
+<p>Pain danced up his leg as he
+grabbed his ankle. Quickly he
+felt the throbbing flesh. "Damn
+the rotten luck, anyway!" He
+blinked the pain tears from his
+eyes and looked up&mdash;into a robot's
+blaster, jutting out of the
+foliage, thirty yards away.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>Instinctively, in one motion
+Alan grabbed his pocket blaster
+and fired. To his amazement the
+robot jerked back, its gun wobbled
+and started to tilt away.
+Then, getting itself under control,
+it swung back again to face
+Alan. He fired again, and again
+the robot reacted. It seemed familiar
+somehow. Then he remembered
+the robot on the river
+bank, jiggling and swaying for
+seconds after each shot. "Of
+course!" He cursed himself for
+missing the obvious. "The blaster
+static blanks out radio
+transmission from the computer
+for a few seconds. They even do
+it to themselves!"</p>
+
+<p>Firing intermittently, he
+pulled himself upright and hobbled
+ahead through the bush.
+The robot shook spasmodically
+with each shot, its gun tilted upward
+at an awkward angle.</p>
+
+<p>Then, unexpectedly, Alan saw
+stars, real stars brilliant in the
+night sky, and half dragging his
+swelling leg he stumbled out of
+the jungle into the camp clearing.
+Ahead, across fifty yards of
+grass stood the headquarters
+building, housing the robot-controlling
+computer. Still firing at
+short intervals he started across
+the clearing, gritting his teeth
+at every step.</p>
+
+<p>Straining every muscle in
+spite of the agonizing pain, Alan
+forced himself to a limping run
+across the uneven ground, carefully
+avoiding the insect hills
+that jutted up through the grass.
+From the corner of his eye he
+saw another of the robots standing
+shakily in the dark edge of
+the jungle waiting, it seemed,
+for his small blaster to run dry.</p>
+
+<p>"Be damned! You can't win
+now!" Alan yelled between blaster
+shots, almost irrational from
+the pain that ripped jaggedly
+through his leg. Then it happened.
+A few feet from the
+building's door his blaster quit.
+A click. A faint hiss when he
+frantically jerked the trigger
+again and again, and the spent
+cells released themselves from
+the device, falling in the grass
+at his feet. He dropped the useless
+gun.</p>
+
+<p>"No!" He threw himself on
+the ground as a new robot suddenly
+appeared around the edge
+of the building a few feet away,
+aimed, and fired. Air burned
+over Alan's back and ozone tingled
+in his nostrils.</p>
+
+<p>Blinding itself for a few seconds
+with its own blaster static,
+the robot paused momentarily,
+jiggling in place. In this
+instant, Alan jammed his hands
+into an insect hill and hurled the
+pile of dirt and insects directly
+at the robot's antenna. In a flash,
+hundreds of the winged things
+erupted angrily from the hole in
+a swarming cloud, each part of
+which was a speck of life
+transmitting mental energy to the
+robot's pickup devices.</p>
+
+<p>Confused by the sudden dispersion
+of mind impulses, the
+robot fired erratically as Alan
+crouched and raced painfully for
+the door. It fired again, closer,
+as he fumbled with the lock
+release. Jagged bits of plastic and
+stone ripped past him, torn loose
+by the blast.</p>
+
+<p>Frantically, Alan slammed
+open the door as the robot, sensing
+him strongly now, aimed
+point blank. He saw nothing, his
+mind thought of nothing but the
+red-clad safety switch mounted
+beside the computer. Time stopped.
+There was nothing else in
+the world. He half-jumped, half-fell
+towards it, slowly, in tenths
+of seconds that seemed measured
+out in years.</p>
+
+<p>The universe went black.</p>
+
+<p>Later. Brilliance pressed upon
+his eyes. Then pain returned, a
+multi-hurting thing that crawled
+through his body and dragged
+ragged tentacles across his
+brain. He moaned.</p>
+
+<p>A voice spoke hollowly in the
+distance. "He's waking. Call his
+wife."</p>
+
+<p>Alan opened his eyes in a
+white room; a white light hung
+over his head. Beside him, looking
+down with a rueful smile,
+stood a young man wearing
+space medical insignia. "Yes,"
+he acknowledged the question in
+Alan's eyes, "you hit the switch.
+That was three days ago. When
+you're up again we'd all like to
+thank you."</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a sobbing-laughing
+green-eyed girl was pressed
+tightly against him. Neither of
+them spoke. They couldn't. There
+was too much to say.</p>
+
+<p class="theend">THE END</p>
+
+<div class="trn"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b><br />
+This etext was produced from <i>Amazing Science Fiction Stories</i>
+October 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
+typographical errors have been corrected without note.</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Survival Tactics, by Al Sevcik
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Survival Tactics, by Al Sevcik
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Survival Tactics
+
+Author: Al Sevcik
+
+Illustrator: Irving Novick
+
+Release Date: March 30, 2008 [EBook #24966]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SURVIVAL TACTICS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ SURVIVAL
+ TACTICS
+
+ By AL SEVCIK
+
+ ILLUSTRATOR NOVICK
+
+
+ _The robots were built to serve
+ Man; to do his work, see to his
+ comforts, make smooth his way.
+ Then the robots figured out an
+ additional service--putting Man
+ out of his misery._
+
+
+There was a sudden crash that hung sharply in the air, as if a tree had
+been hit by lightning some distance away. Then another. Alan stopped,
+puzzled. Two more blasts, quickly together, and the sound of a scream
+faintly.
+
+Frowning, worrying about the sounds, Alan momentarily forgot to watch
+his step until his foot suddenly plunged into an ant hill, throwing him
+to the jungle floor. "Damn!" He cursed again, for the tenth time, and
+stood uncertainly in the dimness. From tall, moss-shrouded trees,
+wrist-thick vines hung quietly, scraping the spongy ground like the
+tentacles of some monstrous tree-bound octopus. Fitful little plants
+grew straggly in the shadows of the mossy trunks, forming a dense
+underbrush that made walking difficult. At midday some few of the blue
+sun's rays filtered through to the jungle floor, but now, late afternoon
+on the planet, the shadows were long and gloomy.
+
+Alan peered around him at the vine-draped shadows, listening to the soft
+rustlings and faint twig-snappings of life in the jungle. Two short,
+popping sounds echoed across the stillness, drowned out almost
+immediately and silenced by an explosive crash. Alan started, "Blaster
+fighting! But it can't be!"
+
+Suddenly anxious, he slashed a hurried X in one of the trees to mark his
+position then turned to follow a line of similar marks back through the
+jungle. He tried to run, but vines blocked his way and woody shrubs
+caught at his legs, tripping him and holding him back. Then, through
+the trees he saw the clearing of the camp site, the temporary home for
+the scout ship and the eleven men who, with Alan, were the only humans
+on the jungle planet, Waiamea.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Stepping through the low shrubbery at the edge of the site, he looked
+across the open area to the two temporary structures, the camp
+headquarters where the power supplies and the computer were; and the
+sleeping quarters. Beyond, nose high, stood the silver scout ship that
+had brought the advance exploratory party of scientists and technicians
+to Waiamea three days before. Except for a few of the killer robots
+rolling slowly around the camp site on their quiet treads, there was no
+one about.
+
+"So, they've finally got those things working." Alan smiled slightly.
+"Guess that means I owe Pete a bourbon-and-soda for sure. Anybody who
+can build a robot that hunts by homing in on animals' mind impulses ..."
+He stepped forward just as a roar of blue flame dissolved the branches
+of a tree, barely above his head.
+
+Without pausing to think, Alan leaped back, and fell sprawling over a
+bush just as one of the robots rolled silently up from the right,
+lowering its blaster barrel to aim directly at his head. Alan froze. "My
+God, Pete built those things wrong!"
+
+Suddenly a screeching whirlwind of claws and teeth hurled itself from
+the smoldering branches and crashed against the robot, clawing insanely
+at the antenna and blaster barrel. With an awkward jerk the robot swung
+around and fired its blaster, completely dissolving the lower half of
+the cat creature which had clung across the barrel. But the back
+pressure of the cat's body overloaded the discharge circuits. The robot
+started to shake, then clicked sharply as an overload relay snapped and
+shorted the blaster cells. The killer turned and rolled back towards the
+camp, leaving Alan alone.
+
+Shakily, Alan crawled a few feet back into the undergrowth where he
+could lie and watch the camp, but not himself be seen. Though visibility
+didn't make any difference to the robots, he felt safer, somehow,
+hidden. He knew now what the shooting sounds had been and why there
+hadn't been anyone around the camp site. A charred blob lying in the
+grass of the clearing confirmed his hypothesis. His stomach felt sick.
+
+"I suppose," he muttered to himself, "that Pete assembled these robots
+in a batch and then activated them all at once, probably never living to
+realize that they're tuned to pick up human brain waves, too. Damn!
+Damn!" His eyes blurred and he slammed his fist into the soft earth.
+
+When he raised his eyes again the jungle was perceptibly darker.
+Stealthy rustlings in the shadows grew louder with the setting sun.
+Branches snapped unaccountably in the trees overhead and every now and
+then leaves or a twig fell softly to the ground, close to where he lay.
+Reaching into his jacket, Alan fingered his pocket blaster. He pulled it
+out and held it in his right hand. "This pop gun wouldn't even singe a
+robot, but it just might stop one of those pumas."
+
+[Illustration: They said the blast with your name on it would find you
+anywhere. This looked like Alan's blast.]
+
+Slowly Alan looked around, sizing up his situation. Behind him the dark
+jungle rustled forbiddingly. He shuddered. "Not a very healthy spot to
+spend the night. On the other hand, I certainly can't get to the camp
+with a pack of mind-activated mechanical killers running around. If I
+can just hold out until morning, when the big ship arrives ... The big
+ship! Good Lord, Peggy!" He turned white; oily sweat punctuated his
+forehead. Peggy, arriving tomorrow with the other colonists, the wives
+and kids! The metal killers, tuned to blast any living flesh, would
+murder them the instant they stepped from the ship!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A pretty girl, Peggy, the girl he'd married just three weeks ago. He
+still couldn't believe it. It was crazy, he supposed, to marry a girl
+and then take off for an unknown planet, with her to follow, to try to
+create a home in a jungle clearing. Crazy maybe, but Peggy and her green
+eyes that changed color with the light, with her soft brown hair, and
+her happy smile, had ended thirty years of loneliness and had, at last,
+given him a reason for living. "Not to be killed!" Alan unclenched his
+fists and wiped his palms, bloody where his fingernails had dug into the
+flesh.
+
+There was a slight creak above him like the protesting of a branch too
+heavily laden. Blaster ready, Alan rolled over onto his back. In the
+movement, his elbow struck the top of a small earthy mound and he was
+instantly engulfed in a swarm of locust-like insects that beat
+disgustingly against his eyes and mouth. "Fagh!" Waving his arms before
+his face he jumped up and backwards, away from the bugs. As he did so, a
+dark shapeless thing plopped from the trees onto the spot where he had
+been lying stretched out. Then, like an ambient fungus, it slithered off
+into the jungle undergrowth.
+
+For a split second the jungle stood frozen in a brilliant blue flash,
+followed by the sharp report of a blaster. Then another. Alan whirled,
+startled. The planet's double moon had risen and he could see a robot
+rolling slowly across the clearing in his general direction, blasting
+indiscriminately at whatever mind impulses came within its pickup range,
+birds, insects, anything. Six or seven others also left the camp
+headquarters area and headed for the jungle, each to a slightly
+different spot.
+
+Apparently the robot hadn't sensed him yet, but Alan didn't know what
+the effective range of its pickup devices was. He began to slide back
+into the jungle. Minutes later, looking back he saw that the machine,
+though several hundred yards away, had altered its course and was now
+headed directly for him.
+
+His stomach tightened. Panic. The dank, musty smell of the jungle seemed
+for an instant to thicken and choke in his throat. Then he thought of
+the big ship landing in the morning, settling down slowly after a lonely
+two-week voyage. He thought of a brown-haired girl crowding with the
+others to the gangway, eager to embrace the new planet, and the next
+instant a charred nothing, unrecognizable, the victim of a design error
+or a misplaced wire in a machine. "I have to try," he said aloud. "I
+have to try." He moved into the blackness.
+
+Powerful as a small tank, the killer robot was equipped to crush, slash,
+and burn its way through undergrowth. Nevertheless, it was slowed by the
+larger trees and the thick, clinging vines, and Alan found that he could
+manage to keep ahead of it, barely out of blaster range. Only, the robot
+didn't get tired. Alan did.
+
+The twin moons cast pale, deceptive shadows that wavered and danced
+across the jungle floor, hiding debris that tripped him and often sent
+him sprawling into the dark. Sharp-edged growths tore at his face and
+clothes, and insects attracted by the blood matted against his pants and
+shirt. Behind, the robot crashed imperturbably after him, lighting the
+night with fitful blaster flashes as some winged or legged life came
+within its range.
+
+There was movement also, in the darkness beside him, scrapings and
+rustlings and an occasional low, throaty sound like an angry cat. Alan's
+fingers tensed on his pocket blaster. Swift shadowy forms moved quickly
+in the shrubs and the growling became suddenly louder. He fired twice,
+blindly, into the undergrowth. Sharp screams punctuated the electric
+blue discharge as a pack of small feline creatures leaped snarling and
+clawing back into the night.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mentally, Alan tried to figure the charge remaining in his blaster.
+There wouldn't be much. "Enough for a few more shots, maybe. Why the
+devil didn't I load in fresh cells this morning!"
+
+The robot crashed on, louder now, gaining on the tired human. Legs
+aching and bruised, stinging from insect bites, Alan tried to force
+himself to run holding his hands in front of him like a child in the
+dark. His foot tripped on a barely visible insect hill and a winged
+swarm exploded around him. Startled, Alan jerked sideways, crashing his
+head against a tree. He clutched at the bark for a second, dazed, then
+his knees buckled. His blaster fell into the shadows.
+
+The robot crashed loudly behind him now. Without stopping to think, Alan
+fumbled along the ground after his gun, straining his eyes in the
+darkness. He found it just a couple of feet to one side, against the
+base of a small bush. Just as his fingers closed upon the barrel his
+other hand slipped into something sticky that splashed over his forearm.
+He screamed in pain and leaped back, trying frantically to wipe the
+clinging, burning blackness off his arm. Patches of black scraped off
+onto branches and vines, but the rest spread slowly over his arm as
+agonizing as hot acid, or as flesh being ripped away layer by layer.
+
+Almost blinded by pain, whimpering, Alan stumbled forward. Sharp muscle
+spasms shot from his shoulder across his back and chest. Tears streamed
+across his cheeks.
+
+A blue arc slashed at the trees a mere hundred yards behind. He screamed
+at the blast. "Damn you, Pete! Damn your robots! Damn, damn ... Oh,
+Peggy!" He stepped into emptiness.
+
+Coolness. Wet. Slowly, washed by the water, the pain began to fall away.
+He wanted to lie there forever in the dark, cool, wetness. For ever, and
+ever, and ... The air thundered.
+
+In the dim light he could see the banks of the stream, higher than a
+man, muddy and loose. Growing right to the edge of the banks, the jungle
+reached out with hairy, disjointed arms as if to snag even the dirty
+little stream that passed so timidly through its domain.
+
+Alan, lying in the mud of the stream bed, felt the earth shake as the
+heavy little robot rolled slowly and inexorably towards him. "The Lord
+High Executioner," he thought, "in battle dress." He tried to stand but
+his legs were almost too weak and his arm felt numb. "I'll drown him,"
+he said aloud. "I'll drown the Lord High Executioner." He laughed. Then
+his mind cleared. He remembered where he was.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Alan trembled. For the first time in his life he understood what it was
+to live, because for the first time he realized that he would sometime
+die. In other times and circumstances he might put it off for a while,
+for months or years, but eventually, as now, he would have to watch,
+still and helpless, while death came creeping. Then, at thirty, Alan
+became a man.
+
+"Dammit, no law says I have to flame-out _now_!" He forced himself to
+rise, forced his legs to stand, struggling painfully in the shin-deep
+ooze. He worked his way to the bank and began to dig frenziedly, chest
+high, about two feet below the edge.
+
+His arm where the black thing had been was swollen and tender, but he
+forced his hands to dig, dig, dig, cursing and crying to hide the pain,
+and biting his lips, ignoring the salty taste of blood. The soft earth
+crumbled under his hands until he had a small cave about three feet deep
+in the bank. Beyond that the soil was held too tightly by the roots from
+above and he had to stop.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The air crackled blue and a tree crashed heavily past Alan into the
+stream. Above him on the bank, silhouetting against the moons, the
+killer robot stopped and its blaster swivelled slowly down. Frantically,
+Alan hugged the bank as a shaft of pure electricity arced over him,
+sliced into the water, and exploded in a cloud of steam. The robot shook
+for a second, its blaster muzzle lifted erratically and for an instant
+it seemed almost out of control, then it quieted and the muzzle again
+pointed down.
+
+Pressing with all his might, Alan slid slowly along the bank inches at a
+time, away from the machine above. Its muzzle turned to follow him but
+the edge of the bank blocked its aim. Grinding forward a couple of feet,
+slightly overhanging the bank, the robot fired again. For a split second
+Alan seemed engulfed in flame; the heat of hell singed his head and
+back, and mud boiled in the bank by his arm.
+
+Again the robot trembled. It jerked forward a foot and its blaster swung
+slightly away. But only for a moment. Then the gun swung back again.
+
+Suddenly, as if sensing something wrong, its tracks slammed into
+reverse. It stood poised for a second, its treads spinning crazily as
+the earth collapsed underneath it, where Alan had dug, then it fell with
+a heavy splash into the mud, ten feet from where Alan stood.
+
+Without hesitation Alan threw himself across the blaster housing,
+frantically locking his arms around the barrel as the robot's treads
+churned furiously in the sticky mud, causing it to buck and plunge like
+a Brahma bull. The treads stopped and the blaster jerked upwards
+wrenching Alan's arms, then slammed down. Then the whole housing whirled
+around and around, tilting alternately up and down like a steel-skinned
+water monster trying to dislodge a tenacious crab, while Alan, arms and
+legs wrapped tightly around the blaster barrel and housing, pressed
+fiercely against the robot's metal skin.
+
+Slowly, trying to anticipate and shift his weight with the spinning
+plunges, Alan worked his hand down to his right hip. He fumbled for the
+sheath clipped to his belt, found it, and extracted a stubby hunting
+knife. Sweat and blood in his eyes, hardly able to move on the wildly
+swinging turret, he felt down the sides to the thin crack between the
+revolving housing and the stationary portion of the robot. With a quick
+prayer he jammed in the knife blade--and was whipped headlong into the
+mud as the turret literally snapped to a stop.
+
+The earth, jungle and moons spun in a pinwheeled blur, slowed, and
+settled to their proper places. Standing in the sticky, sweet-smelling
+ooze, Alan eyed the robot apprehensively. Half buried in mud, it stood
+quiet in the shadowy light except for an occasional, almost spasmodic
+jerk of its blaster barrel. For the first time that night Alan allowed
+himself a slight smile. "A blade in the old gear box, eh? How does that
+feel, boy?"
+
+He turned. "Well, I'd better get out of here before the knife slips or
+the monster cooks up some more tricks with whatever it's got for a
+brain." Digging little footholds in the soft bank, he climbed up and
+stood once again in the rustling jungle darkness.
+
+"I wonder," he thought, "how Pete could cram enough brain into one of
+those things to make it hunt and track so perfectly." He tried to
+visualize the computing circuits needed for the operation of its
+tracking mechanism alone. "There just isn't room for the electronics.
+You'd need a computer as big as the one at camp headquarters."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the distance the sky blazed as a blaster roared in the jungle. Then
+Alan heard the approaching robot, crunching and snapping its way through
+the undergrowth like an onrushing forest fire. He froze. "Good Lord!
+They communicate with each other! The one I jammed must be calling
+others to help."
+
+He began to move along the bank, away from the crashing sounds. Suddenly
+he stopped, his eyes widened. "Of course! Radio! I'll bet anything
+they're automatically controlled by the camp computer. That's where their
+brain is!" He paused. "Then, if that were put out of commission ..." He
+jerked away from the bank and half ran, half pulled himself through the
+undergrowth towards the camp.
+
+Trees exploded to his left as another robot fired in his direction, too
+far away to be effective but churning towards him through the blackness.
+
+Alan changed direction slightly to follow a line between the two robots
+coming up from either side, behind him. His eyes were well accustomed to
+the dark now, and he managed to dodge most of the shadowy vines and
+branches before they could snag or trip him. Even so, he stumbled in the
+wiry underbrush and his legs were a mass of stinging slashes from ankle
+to thigh.
+
+The crashing rumble of the killer robots shook the night behind him,
+nearer sometimes, then falling slightly back, but following constantly,
+more unshakable than bloodhounds because a man can sometimes cover a
+scent, but no man can stop his thoughts. Intermittently, like
+photographers' strobes, blue flashes would light the jungle about him.
+Then, for seconds afterwards his eyes would see dancing streaks of
+yellow and sharp multi-colored pinwheels that alternately shrunk and
+expanded as if in a surrealist's nightmare. Alan would have to pause and
+squeeze his eyelids tight shut before he could see again, and the robots
+would move a little closer.
+
+To his right the trees silhouetted briefly against brilliance as a third
+robot slowly moved up in the distance. Without thinking, Alan turned
+slightly to the left, then froze in momentary panic. "I should be at the
+camp now. Damn, what direction am I going?" He tried to think back, to
+visualize the twists and turns he'd taken in the jungle. "All I need is
+to get lost."
+
+He pictured the camp computer with no one to stop it, automatically
+sending its robots in wider and wider forays, slowly wiping every trace
+of life from the planet. Technologically advanced machines doing the job
+for which they were built, completely, thoroughly, without feeling, and
+without human masters to separate sense from futility. Finally parts
+would wear out, circuits would short, and one by one the killers would
+crunch to a halt. A few birds would still fly then, but a unique animal
+life, rare in the universe, would exist no more. And the bones of
+children, eager girls, and their men would also lie, beside a rusty
+hulk, beneath the alien sun.
+
+"Peggy!"
+
+As if in answer, a tree beside him breathed fire, then exploded. In the
+brief flash of the blaster shot, Alan saw the steel glint of a robot
+only a hundred yards away, much nearer than he had thought. "Thank
+heaven for trees!" He stepped back, felt his foot catch in something,
+clutched futilely at some leaves and fell heavily.
+
+Pain danced up his leg as he grabbed his ankle. Quickly he felt the
+throbbing flesh. "Damn the rotten luck, anyway!" He blinked the pain
+tears from his eyes and looked up--into a robot's blaster, jutting out
+of the foliage, thirty yards away.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Instinctively, in one motion Alan grabbed his pocket blaster and fired.
+To his amazement the robot jerked back, its gun wobbled and started to
+tilt away. Then, getting itself under control, it swung back again to
+face Alan. He fired again, and again the robot reacted. It seemed
+familiar somehow. Then he remembered the robot on the river bank,
+jiggling and swaying for seconds after each shot. "Of course!" He cursed
+himself for missing the obvious. "The blaster static blanks out radio
+transmission from the computer for a few seconds. They even do it to
+themselves!"
+
+Firing intermittently, he pulled himself upright and hobbled ahead
+through the bush. The robot shook spasmodically with each shot, its gun
+tilted upward at an awkward angle.
+
+Then, unexpectedly, Alan saw stars, real stars brilliant in the night
+sky, and half dragging his swelling leg he stumbled out of the jungle
+into the camp clearing. Ahead, across fifty yards of grass stood the
+headquarters building, housing the robot-controlling computer. Still
+firing at short intervals he started across the clearing, gritting his
+teeth at every step.
+
+Straining every muscle in spite of the agonizing pain, Alan forced
+himself to a limping run across the uneven ground, carefully avoiding
+the insect hills that jutted up through the grass. From the corner of
+his eye he saw another of the robots standing shakily in the dark edge
+of the jungle waiting, it seemed, for his small blaster to run dry.
+
+"Be damned! You can't win now!" Alan yelled between blaster shots,
+almost irrational from the pain that ripped jaggedly through his leg.
+Then it happened. A few feet from the building's door his blaster quit.
+A click. A faint hiss when he frantically jerked the trigger again and
+again, and the spent cells released themselves from the device, falling
+in the grass at his feet. He dropped the useless gun.
+
+"No!" He threw himself on the ground as a new robot suddenly appeared
+around the edge of the building a few feet away, aimed, and fired. Air
+burned over Alan's back and ozone tingled in his nostrils.
+
+Blinding itself for a few seconds with its own blaster static, the robot
+paused momentarily, jiggling in place. In this instant, Alan jammed his
+hands into an insect hill and hurled the pile of dirt and insects
+directly at the robot's antenna. In a flash, hundreds of the winged
+things erupted angrily from the hole in a swarming cloud, each part of
+which was a speck of life transmitting mental energy to the robot's
+pickup devices.
+
+Confused by the sudden dispersion of mind impulses, the robot fired
+erratically as Alan crouched and raced painfully for the door. It fired
+again, closer, as he fumbled with the lock release. Jagged bits of
+plastic and stone ripped past him, torn loose by the blast.
+
+Frantically, Alan slammed open the door as the robot, sensing him
+strongly now, aimed point blank. He saw nothing, his mind thought of
+nothing but the red-clad safety switch mounted beside the computer. Time
+stopped. There was nothing else in the world. He half-jumped, half-fell
+towards it, slowly, in tenths of seconds that seemed measured out in
+years.
+
+The universe went black.
+
+Later. Brilliance pressed upon his eyes. Then pain returned, a
+multi-hurting thing that crawled through his body and dragged ragged
+tentacles across his brain. He moaned.
+
+A voice spoke hollowly in the distance. "He's waking. Call his wife."
+
+Alan opened his eyes in a white room; a white light hung over his head.
+Beside him, looking down with a rueful smile, stood a young man wearing
+space medical insignia. "Yes," he acknowledged the question in Alan's
+eyes, "you hit the switch. That was three days ago. When you're up again
+we'd all like to thank you."
+
+Suddenly a sobbing-laughing green-eyed girl was pressed tightly against
+him. Neither of them spoke. They couldn't. There was too much to say.
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+    This etext was produced from _Amazing Science Fiction Stories_
+    October 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
+    the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling
+    and typographical errors have been corrected without note.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Survival Tactics, by Al Sevcik
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SURVIVAL TACTICS ***
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:15:08 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:15:08 -0700
commit	142748562962839e0a3369a2bee69b71c01d985b (patch)
tree	3fd2db6dbbd5a41cd00bae8465652f7c40fe4e9f